A fist goes hard into yet another skinhead. "I said, 'stay down,' homeboy!"
Eli had been separated from his friends battling looters and people coming into the neighborhood. Grandma survived Watts and like hell he was going to allow this crap to happen to another group of people that get kicked around for no real reason. Where's the Guardian Angels when you need them? Mutant Town isn't a block or two.
A brick goes flying past his head. Okay, one idiot down. A few dozen to go. "Guess that makes you and your friend there next!"
His name was Jackson Campbell, and he was twenty-three years old. He'd grown up in New Jersey, and had moved to the part of New York popularly refered to as Mutant Town because it was close to his job, and because the rent was cheaper.
The little girl who'd lived across the hall from him had destroyed their building when her power had manifested. She'd killed herself, her parents, and Jackson's girlfriend Shelly.
Shelly had been three months pregnant at the time.
Jackson was a very angry young man who wanted to lash out at the one who'd taken Shelly away from him. Unfortunatly, the kid was already dead, so he found other targets.
He had a gun, and he was going to make sure that those abominations that were hurting the normal people paid for what they were doing.
He swung the Black Eagle around and fired at the freak who'd just taken Patrick down.
If he was up for talking, Eli could have related to the idea of wanting someone to pay who you just couldn't ever collect from. Grandma's way of coping was to believe God will do it. Eli wasn't that type. He was young and rather just not give anyone a chance to do that type of thing ever again. More than anything, that is what drives him at anything he has done up to this point: making sure in his small way things like what happened to Grandpa never happen again.
Punch, kick, punch, kick...One goes down and then another came up. He takes the next one and two more assholes show up. Blow after blow after -
::crack::
He thought it was just another firecracker until he felt the impact from behind and felt his breath become hard to catch. His vision dimmed and the front of his uniform is red and sticky already.
Craig Hollister had been on his way to New York for a full night. He decided to take a bus and not worry the team with the quinjetta. He had got off the bus near a small town that was home to many of the mutant population. He sighed and sat down, making sure his costume was fully on. He had the feeling that he would run into trouble. Thats when he heard a gun shot coming from down the street.
He ran as fast as possible, but stopped when he saw a large mob surrounding someone. He smirked and went into hero mode.
"Attention citizens, please disperse immediately. I am Mr. immortal and I can handle the problem from here."
He had his hands on his sides and was looking quite confident, until he noticed that the crowd was less than happy to see a man in tights. This would hurt, a lot.
The order to do serious bodily harm to Craig was cut short by 300 pounds of angry Canadian mutant dropping out of a Quinjet, landing very heavily in the middle of the Leaguers while the rest of the Avengers (with Captain America notably absent) sweeping in.
They worked efficiantly, getting between the rioting humans and mutants and putting an end to things as quickly as they could.
This was the last area of the rioting, and it could be argued that it was the worst.
But they were the Earths Mightiest Heroes, and they made fairly short work of things... even if Sentry was occupied trying to keep Rowena from chasing after the humans.
"Hey, Golden Boy!" Wolverine roared. "Get your ass over here and get this kid to the hospital!"
Wolverine just grunted, turning away from Craig. He really didn't have time for this bullshit. Nobody did, right then. "Just don't get in my way," he growled as Sentry carefully scooped Patriot up.
"I'll get him to a hospital," the superhero said, flying off as Billy landed, surveying the damage done. Iron Man was rounding up the rest of the young super-heroes as Rowena ducked into the shop, moving surprisingly quick for someone still wearing a dress several sizes too big for her.
"Hulkling, you've got to calm down," he said, putting both hands on Teddy's wrists. "This isn't the way to do this."
Teddy grit his teeth and took a couple of deep breaths.
"I can do calm." he managed, glowering over Billy's shoulder at the remaining Leaguers. God, why was everyone around him dropping like flies?
Teddy took another deep breath, inhaled through the nose and exhaled through the mouth before squeezing Billy's hand gently and straightening his shoulders. "Okay, what needs doing? We've got a couple of trucks full of unconscious and semi-conscious mob members back by the shop that we should probably do something about, not to mention everyone out here."
Focus on the things that he could do something about. Eli was in good hands.
Kristoff folded his arms. "We should look for Stature and the android now." He stated. And if Cassie had been shot he would ensure the android would pay for its negligence. He looked around. "Where did the witch-" He paused and corrected himself, in case she was nearby and he didn't see her. "Mage go?"
"I saw Stature and Vision heading for the hospital," Billy said, eyes sweeping the street for Rowena. He finally spotted her as she was trying (and failing) to get the door to the Devil's Due open.
Someone had locked it, and she didn't have the key with her.
"Congratulations, Kristoff. You get to go get her," Billy said.
Nico, meanwhile, was trying very hard to understand just what the strange, red skinned girl crouched in front of her wanted while wisely not hitting her with the Staff of One.
Rowena stoped cursing at the door and looked up at Kristoff, her mouth pulled down in a very disagreable scowl. She ran a hand over her face and muttered something very quietly to herself about wanting a vacation.
"I would appriciate it if you could get the door open without breaking it, actually. Glass doors are rather expensive things, and I've got enough that I have to replace as is." She scowled at her reflection. "Who got hurt? I heard screaming."
"It should be simple enough." Kristoff said. Though if the witch had put magic on the door and wasn't telling him he was going to look like a fool.
"Patriot was shot." He said as he tapped something on his hand and something resembling a needle shot out from one of his gloved fingers. Kristoff preferred cracking codes to picking locks, but desperate times...
"Hn. Lovely. I imagine I'm going to end up blamed for that too." Rowena sighed. "Thank you. You can go catch up with your light-of-love now." She gathered up her skirts and hurried inside. "I'll catch up later."
"But-" Kristoff lost sight of Rowena in the store and he had no desire to chase after her. "Hngh." He turned back to the group. "The mage is inside the building. We can leave now." No doubt he would have to wait for many minutes before any of them readied themselves to go.
Eli had been separated from his friends battling looters and people coming into the neighborhood. Grandma survived Watts and like hell he was going to allow this crap to happen to another group of people that get kicked around for no real reason. Where's the Guardian Angels when you need them? Mutant Town isn't a block or two.
A brick goes flying past his head. Okay, one idiot down. A few dozen to go. "Guess that makes you and your friend there next!"
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His name was Jackson Campbell, and he was twenty-three years old. He'd grown up in New Jersey, and had moved to the part of New York popularly refered to as Mutant Town because it was close to his job, and because the rent was cheaper.
The little girl who'd lived across the hall from him had destroyed their building when her power had manifested. She'd killed herself, her parents, and Jackson's girlfriend Shelly.
Shelly had been three months pregnant at the time.
Jackson was a very angry young man who wanted to lash out at the one who'd taken Shelly away from him. Unfortunatly, the kid was already dead, so he found other targets.
He had a gun, and he was going to make sure that those abominations that were hurting the normal people paid for what they were doing.
He swung the Black Eagle around and fired at the freak who'd just taken Patrick down.
Reply
Punch, kick, punch, kick...One goes down and then another came up. He takes the next one and two more assholes show up. Blow after blow after -
::crack::
He thought it was just another firecracker until he felt the impact from behind and felt his breath become hard to catch. His vision dimmed and the front of his uniform is red and sticky already.
"Son of a -" Patriot fell.
Reply
He ran as fast as possible, but stopped when he saw a large mob surrounding someone. He smirked and went into hero mode.
"Attention citizens, please disperse immediately. I am Mr. immortal and I can handle the problem from here."
He had his hands on his sides and was looking quite confident, until he noticed that the crowd was less than happy to see a man in tights. This would hurt, a lot.
Reply
The order to do serious bodily harm to Craig was cut short by 300 pounds of angry Canadian mutant dropping out of a Quinjet, landing very heavily in the middle of the Leaguers while the rest of the Avengers (with Captain America notably absent) sweeping in.
They worked efficiantly, getting between the rioting humans and mutants and putting an end to things as quickly as they could.
This was the last area of the rioting, and it could be argued that it was the worst.
But they were the Earths Mightiest Heroes, and they made fairly short work of things... even if Sentry was occupied trying to keep Rowena from chasing after the humans.
"Hey, Golden Boy!" Wolverine roared. "Get your ass over here and get this kid to the hospital!"
Reply
"Aww, couldn't you guys have waited just a little longer?" he called. "We just about had this whole thing under contr--oh fuck, PATRIOT!"
He hadn't seen the shot, hadn't heard it over the noise and the fighting, but Eli was down. Bleeding. Oh hell.
"Who shot him?!" Teddy shouted, vaulting over a couple of unconscious members of the former-mob. "Which one of you bastards shot him?!"
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"Hey, Iron Man. You remember me right? Mr. Immortal, one of the Great lakes Av....I mean X-men. The GLX. Yeah thats it."
He smiled and looked over to Wolverine, who was in his usual type of mood.
"Do you guys need the extra help? I can do just that."
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"I'll get him to a hospital," the superhero said, flying off as Billy landed, surveying the damage done. Iron Man was rounding up the rest of the young super-heroes as Rowena ducked into the shop, moving surprisingly quick for someone still wearing a dress several sizes too big for her.
"Hulkling, you've got to calm down," he said, putting both hands on Teddy's wrists. "This isn't the way to do this."
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"I can do calm." he managed, glowering over Billy's shoulder at the remaining Leaguers. God, why was everyone around him dropping like flies?
Teddy took another deep breath, inhaled through the nose and exhaled through the mouth before squeezing Billy's hand gently and straightening his shoulders. "Okay, what needs doing? We've got a couple of trucks full of unconscious and semi-conscious mob members back by the shop that we should probably do something about, not to mention everyone out here."
Focus on the things that he could do something about. Eli was in good hands.
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Someone had locked it, and she didn't have the key with her.
"Congratulations, Kristoff. You get to go get her," Billy said.
Nico, meanwhile, was trying very hard to understand just what the strange, red skinned girl crouched in front of her wanted while wisely not hitting her with the Staff of One.
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He cleared his throat. "Ma'am, you should return to your friends, unless you want me to break the door open for you."
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"I would appriciate it if you could get the door open without breaking it, actually. Glass doors are rather expensive things, and I've got enough that I have to replace as is." She scowled at her reflection. "Who got hurt? I heard screaming."
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"Patriot was shot." He said as he tapped something on his hand and something resembling a needle shot out from one of his gloved fingers. Kristoff preferred cracking codes to picking locks, but desperate times...
The lock clicked open.
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